If I had to title this column, and I apologize for its length, I would have to call it, “An Audience, a Basilica, and the Final Journey of Pope Francis.” I have been fortunate enough to have visited Rome three times, with the second trip in November 2021 being the most Catholic-focused. At that time, the world was emerging–however cautiously–from the global pandemic. Our pilgrimage with Father Dan Wheeler included an audience with Pope Francis at the Vatican, an encounter that left me deeply humbled and profoundly grateful.
That visit was what came to mind when I first learned of Pope Francis’ death early Monday morning and his subsequent burial plans. Pope Francis died April 21, 2025, the day after Easter.
Unlike heads of state and other VIPs in the world, our parish group was part of a much larger audience who stood in the pouring rain, going through security in Vatican City with the Swiss Guards and then finding a seat in the Paul VI Audience Hall. Tickets are free but have to be booked in advance to assure there is a seat available.
Masks were required there as they were in all indoor spaces in Italy that year.
The papal audience is not a Mass nor is it a visit with the pope. Instead, it is a time of catechesis and prayer. It begins with a short reading from the Scriptures, and then the Holy Father gives a homily in Italian, the everyday language of the Vatican. This is followed by members of the Papal Household who provide a short summary of his homily in eight languages for the benefit of the audience. Then each group is recognized–we were given a shout out along with others from the United States and other English-speaking nations. Finally, the pope stands and gives the Apostolic Blessing to all of the pilgrims in the audience. At this point, if you had purchased any goods from the Vatican gift shops, you could hold them up and they would be blessed. This is how most of my rosaries, Pope Francis keychains, and medals came to be blessed by the pope.
As details emerged about Pope Francis’ last day on this earth and his burial wishes, I was compelled to revisit not just the papal audience in 2021 but a visit to St. Mary Major–Santa Maria Maggiore in Italian–where Pope Francis was interred last Saturday. I have a real affinity–perhaps an obsession–with churches, whether they are simple churches like we have in our own neighborhoods here in town or St. Peter’s Basilica. I just want to experience each and every one of them. And in the Eternal City, a church aficionado is not disappointed.
St. Mary Major is one of the four papal basilicas in Rome, along with St. Peter’s Basilica, St. John Lateran, and St. Paul’s Outside the Walls. I have been so lucky to have visited them all, as well as some of the minor churches, notably the Church of St. Louis of the French with its collection of Caravaggio paintings, and the Church of St. Agnes in Agony, with its skull of the saint on display in a tiny reliquary. St. Agnes was martyred just outside of that church in the Piazza Navona in 304 A.D.
If you watched the funeral of the pope, you would have seen the exterior and the 250-foot bell tower soaring into the blue of a springtime Roman sky as the 14 pallbearers carried his casket from the “popemobile” up the steps and into the basilica. Marble pillars, a gold coffered ceiling, and dozens of ancient mosaics depicting the Old and New Testaments adorn the interior along with smaller chapels that contain significant relics–such as the relic of the Holy Crib–and the iconic image of the Salus Populi Romano, in English, “To the Health or Salvation of the Roman People,” an icon attributed to St. Luke and the place where Pope Francis began and ended all of his worldwide journeys during his papacy. In fact, according to some statistics, the late pontiff visited the church 125 times, including on the first day he was named pope.
Pope Francis is the eighth pope to be buried in St. Mary Major, and the first since Paul V in 1621. Other notable religious figures said to be interred there are St. Matthew the Apostle and St. Jerome.
That same day, after our audience with the Holy Father, we traveled the four miles from the Vatican to St. Mary Major. There, in one of the side chapels, we celebrated Mass with Father Dan–surrounded by marble, mosaics, and the weight of centuries. It was humbling to realize that we stood in the same sacred space that had witnessed so much of the Church’s history, and where Pope Francis, who had begun so many of his journeys with prayer there, would now rest.
As I watched the funeral coverage and saw his casket enter the basilica, I was deeply grateful—for the Church, for our pilgrimage, and for the gift of having glimpsed, however briefly, the holiness and humanity of this man who once stood just yards away from us, offering a blessing that now feels even more profound.
SQUIBS 